


Next Time, You're Mine

by SpicyRedPaladin



Series: Push Me to the Edge [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Choking, Comtemplative Carl, Freeform Character Interpretation, M/M, Negan's Jacket
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-01 11:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11485008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyRedPaladin/pseuds/SpicyRedPaladin
Summary: Negan watched the Alexandrians scurry around. Something was definitely different. What was it? He surveyed the group before him, looking for changes. Rick watched his little sheep bringing out the boxes with his usual teary half-pout. Michonne stood at his side, tending to the former sheriff’s bouncy baby.  That’s when he realized it. The half-blind boy wasn’t there. Negan twirled Lucille in his hand, making those nearest to him back away warily. The search was on.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first TWD fic. Stick around to the end notes for a shocking confession

Negan watched the Alexandrians scurry around. Something was definitely different. What was it? He surveyed the group before him, looking for changes. Rick watched his little sheep bringing out the boxes with his usual teary half-pout. Michonne stood at his side, tending to the former sheriff’s bouncy baby.  That’s when he realized it. The half-blind boy wasn’t there. Negan twirled Lucille in his hand, making those nearest to him back away warily. The search was on.

He began to walk through the streets, approaching Rick with a Cheshire grin. “Well, well, well. I thought something was off, but I’ll be damned if I don’t fix it. I mean, not like I’m not damned _already_ but, hell. Now, how about Sheriff Woody tells me where his baby boy is?”

Rick shook his head giving him a pleading look. “You leave him out of this. That boy ha- “

“That BOY, Rick, is gone off somewhere and I intend to find out where. Now, if you’re not going to tell me, I’ll just have to go through every single house until I find him. Aren’t I? And who knows, I might find a thing or two I like while I’m searching.” He gave Lucille another spin, bringing it uncomfortably close to the father. Directions were quickly given and the tyrant sauntered off, his grin predatory.

The door to Rick’s was open, and Negan let himself in. He heard footsteps as the screen door shut, following them to find where the boy was. He found his quarry in the bathroom, tending to the ragged hole in his face. The man leaned against the door frame, watching silently until Carl began to rebandage himself.

“Leave it.”

Carl spun around, taken off guard by the words. He had dropped his guard, a fatal mistake in times like these. He grit his teeth but put the bandages down. Negan approached the teen, placing his hand under Carl’s chin and tilting his head up.

The man examined the hole for a moment before considering the crystal blue eye beside it. He chuckled.

“Boy, don’t you look like some kind of badass with that hole in your head?”

The teen was silent, staring calmly forward. Negan laughed now, setting Lucille against the sink.

“Come on now, kid. Don’t give Daddy Negan the silent treatment. At least tell me to fuck off!”

Carl merely glared up at the man. Negan sighed, his hand slipping down from the boy’s chin to grasp his neck. He gave him a cold stare.

“Look here, boy. I’m your biggest fan around here, besides your sweet ol’ daddy. And, if you hadn’t noticed, _I_ am the one running this _shithole_ of an apocalypse. If I were you, I’d be showing me some respect. Now, how about we start over.”

He dropped the boy back to the ground, letting him catch his breath.

“Well hello there _Carl_. How in the hell are you!”

There was a short silence. Negan set a hand on the sink, trapping the boy as he reached for Lucille.

“Hello, Negan.. I’m fine…”

Negan grinned. “That was almost believable. Good job. Now come on, kiddo.”

The man wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders and grabbing Lucille, slinging her over his shoulder. Carl walked silently, taking deep breaths to help himself stay calm. He couldn’t keep his hands from shaking like leaves in a gale. Beside him was the man he hated. His arm around the boy’s shoulders as though he were family. But the part that scared him the most?

Carl enjoyed this.

Walking so close to a man with such power that even his father was compliant. The hot gaze that Negan had given him when he was examining, no, _admiring_ the hole in his face. It sent thrills up Carl’s spine, and that was what scared the boy. The fact that he enjoyed being looked at and handled by the tyrant. Even the choking was exciting, though that was most likely his brain cells dying.

The two stopped just short of returning to the others and Negan glanced down at the boy. He knew what Negan wanted. He wanted Carl to join his ranks. Wanted to him to be ‘his little serial killer’. And the prospect was alluring.

But he declined. Negan was obviously disappointed. He ruffled the boy’s hair, warning him that he would ask again. And Carl nodded. _Maybe_ , he thought, _next time my answer will be different._

The rejoined the others. Negan poked fun at Rick again, but Carl wasn’t really paying attention to the words. He was thinking. Thinking of some excuse to give his father when he finally agreed to go with Negan. Maybe, just maybe, Rick would supply one.

He shivered in the frigid air. The seasons were turning already; it felt as though just yesterday the heat had come on the Alexandrians. Carl was ashamed of himself for showing this little weakness, knowing it wouldn’t go unnoticed. And he was correct. He felt the two burning eyes on him, and suddenly there was a weight on his shoulders, warmth enveloping him, and a hand ruffling his hair.

“Don’t need the little serial killer turning into a kid-sicle.”

Carl looked up at Negan, the smallest of smiles on his lips. Glancing around the form before him, Carl saw his father, looking worried and downtrodden as usual whenever their oppressor was near. Negan straightened and looked over at Rick.

“Can’t even keep your kid alive, huh? How the _hell_ did anyone actually let you keep two damn kids?” He looked back down at Carl. “Keep it. Your scrawny ass needs it a hell of a lot more than me.”

With a wink, Negan walked away. “Alrighty boys and girls! Looks like you guys got me some good shit! Sorry to say buh-bye so soon, but damn it’s cold!” He laughed. “Just ‘cause you guys did great this week, don’t think you can slack next time!”

With that, the Saviors left. Carl was relieved no one had been hurt this time. He pulled Negan’s jacket closer around him, inhaling the scent of smoke and sweat. He would never admit it out loud, but he enjoyed being Negan’s favorite like this. His mind was made up. _Next time. Next time I’m going._

In one of the trucks, Negan ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. He barely felt the cold, the heat in his chest driving away the elements. _Next time, you’re going to come with me._

_Next time, you’re mine._


	2. Aftershock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What the hell was that, Carl?”

“What the  _hell_  was that, Carl?”

The teen recoiled as his dad started in on him. He knew this would happen, knew that his father would berate admonish him for the borderline friendly attitude Negan had towards him. It had only been a matter of time before Rick blew up. It was always just a matter of time.

"I'm pretty sure that was Negan giving me a jacket." Michonne looked at the boy admonishingly. "What?  _What?_  He's probably just trying to get at you!" He turned away from his father's burning eyes, but he could still feel them on his back.

"Carl, you take that thing off and you go inside and get your own damn jacket. I'm not gonna let you use anything that monster 'gives' you." Carl felt Rick's hand on the jacket collar and quickly moved away.

"Stop! It's not your place to decide whether I can or can't use something he gives me! I'm old enough to make my own decisions!"

"Carl! You are still just a boy!"

The others had left the open, leaving Rick and Carl to their shouting match.

"And what's going to make me a man, dad? How many people I have to bury? Or how many I have to kill? What's going to make you look at me and say, 'by god my son is a man now'? Nothing I can say or do is ever going to make you or anyone else around here treat me like anything more than a child!"

With that, Carl stormed away, back to the house, and then to his room. His scars burned, the tear ducts still working but having no place to spit out the hot tears that his good eye let stream down his face. He shoved the few things he called his own into a bag before picking up the picture of their family. All smiles and clean clothes and trimmed hair.

He tossed the picture aside, rejecting that the smiling boy in that photo had ever been him. He slung his bag over his shoulder and left that house. Left behind the houses with the other survivors and refugees. He wouldn't stay near them. Couldn't, really. They all listened to Rick, and, right now, Ricks orders and restrictions were not what he needed.

When he was finally alone, safely tucked away in one of the empty houses near the wall, Carl finally gave in to the tears. He sat and cried for hours, until long after the sun had gone down.

He could hear them trying to find him, his dad trying to apologize. But it was an apology he wouldn't accept. He wasn't a child anymore. He didn't need to go running back to Rick to feel secure.

Carl knew where his security was. It was at Sanctuary. It was two weeks away from being anywhere near him. He pulled the worn leather jacket tighter around himself, taking a deep breath to inhale the scent. It calmed him, put his mind at ease.

 _Two weeks_ , Carl thought.  _Two weeks to go. Then I don't have to deal with dad's orders. The only one I'll have to listen to is Negan._

With that thought in his head, the teen curled up on the floorboards and settled in for the night. He would be away from Alexandria, away from the eyes that followed him, and, most importantly, away from Rick.


	3. Tell Me What to Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan stared at the teen before him, a bemused grin painting his lips. “I must be losing my hearing here. I don’t believe I heard you quite right, m’boy. You’re going to have to say that again.”
> 
> Carl took a deep breath and tightened his fists. “I said, ‘Tell me what to do’. I can’t do everything on my own.” The look on his face said he was ready. Ready for anything Negan could have him say or do.

Negan stared at the teen before him, a bemused grin painting his lips. “I must be losing my hearing here. I don’t believe I heard you quite right, m’boy. You’re going to have to say that again.”

Carl took a deep breath and tightened his fists. “I said, ‘Tell me what to do’. I can’t do everything on my own.” The look on his face said he was ready. Ready for anything Negan could have him say or do.

“First thing’s first, you need to tell your daddy. He’s gonna go ape-shit if you just hop into a truck without a word. Hell, I’ll even hold your hand if y’need me to.” Negan smirked. “Gotta say, I’d sure like to see the look on his face, seeing his baby boy holding hands with the Big Bad Wolf.”

The teen blushed a bit, imagining the prospect. “I think that might make things worse. And you can stop calling me ‘baby’. It’s not funny.”

Negan scoffed and shook his head. “You get yourself through this, without my help. Then I’ll tell you how man-sized your balls are.” He ruffled Carl’s hair. “Got your shit together? Then come on and say bye to Woody out there.”

Carl shook his head with a smile, grabbing the rucksack that held all his worldly possessions before following the lead Saviour out of the abandoned house he’d been avoiding Rick in. He adjusted Negan’s jacket against the cold, proud that Negan had let him keep it. They walked in silence for the first block or so, but then Negan spoke.

“I’m pretty sure those thick shit-brains back at Sanctuary won’t have a room ready for you. Y’fine with bumping shoulders with me till I scare their asses into gear?”

Carl laughed. “I’ve shared with worse. Besides, you’re more of an angry puppy than a Big Bad Wolf.”

Negan scowled a bit but shook his head with a laugh. “You really are something else, aren’t you? Anybody else tried to talk to me like you do, I’d make ‘em give Lucille a little bath.”

They soon joined the congregation out by the gate. The Saviours had already loaded the supplies and were waiting for Negan’s orders to leave or bash skulls. Negan draped his arm over Carl’s shoulders, speaking in a low voice so only the teen would hear. “You got this, Carl. Just give the old bastard what for and come on home to Daddy Negan.”

Carl grinned a bit, looking down. It was hard to stay sour with Negan’s quips and teasing. He took a deep breath and wiped away his smile, approaching his father. He stayed out of arm’s reach from the man, and close enough to Negan that he could retreat if need be. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.

Rick looked between his son and their oppressor, confusion in his eyes. Michonne shook her head, watching from a few steps back.

“Dad... Rick. I’m leaving Alexandria. Going with Negan.”

The response was immediate. Rage filled Rick’s eyes and it was as though he was no longer the same person. Not the doting father who believed Carl to be an angel. Not the broken man who had lost his wife. He was a madman. A rabid wolf in the clothing of a downtrodden sheep.

“You’re not going with that murderer! He killed Glenn! Killed Abraham! And you want to buddy up to him? You’re not leaving my sight, boy!” He stepped forward, reaching out with both hands to grab his son.

Fear flashed in the boy’s eyes for a mere second before his vision was painted red. Rick screamed with agony and Judith began to cry in Michonne’s arms. The dark-skinned woman cried out. It took Carl several seconds to register Rick’s broken arm, the flesh mangled and ragged, and Lucille barring the space between them. Negan pulled Carl back.

“Look here,  _shit-stick_. This ain’t a fuckin’ boy anymore. You’re staring at a  _genuine badass_ , have been for a long ass time. He might not be quite so old as you, might not’ve killed quite so many men or had so many experiences, but he is at least as much a man as either of us. Hell, your own son is more a man than you!”

Rick glared up at them, hate in his eyes. Through his pain, he managed to choke out a single sentence. “That boy is no son of mine.”

Carl breathed deeply, turning away from Rick and walking towards the trucks. Negan shook his head. “You know Rick, I’m disappointed in you.” With that, he turned away. “Get that arm fixed up! I’ll be back in two weeks, and I better get some good fucking shit after this hell-fest!”

The Saviours packed themselves into their trucks, Negan ushering the boy into one of them before sliding in beside him. He wrapped an arm around the teen, who had begun to cry silently.

“You did good, Carl. You’ve got some man-sized balls. Hell, at your age, I wouldn’t have been able to stand up to my daddy like that.”

Carl leaned against the man, trembling a bit. Negan wasn’t sure what to do other than to pull his jacket tighter around the boy and stroke his hair. He felt the boy drift off into a troubled sleep and glared over at the driver, making sure he knew not to speak a word of what he’d said.

As Sanctuary came into sight, he looked back at the boy, now a man in his eyes.

“Welcome home, Carl.”


	4. Where the Heart Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan watched the boy sleeping in his bed quietly. He couldn't help but enjoy the sight; after all, he'd coveted the teen ever since he first laid eyes on him. Admired the fire in his soul and his fierce disposition. In some ways, Carl reminded the man of himself when he was that age. Rebellious and zealous to the things and the people his parents hated most.

Negan watched the boy sleeping in his bed quietly. He couldn't help but enjoy the sight; after all, he'd coveted the teen ever since he first laid eyes on him. Admired the fire in his soul and his fierce disposition. In some ways, Carl reminded the man of himself when he was that age. Rebellious and zealous to the things and the people his parents hated most.

  
He took a deep breath and stood, treading silently to the window. He watched as the snow slowly began to fall. It was early this year. That or the heat had lasted longer. Negan had lost count of the days within the first few weeks after the walkers had started taking over. Things like that didn’t matter anymore. He lost count of how many of his students he had to kill quickly, as well. They were all stupid kids, really. Not like the one in his bed. Negan had been stupid back then as well. In his mind, there were so many things he could have done better.

  
The man turned to look at Carl again. His jacket was still wrapped tightly around the teen’s shoulders, and he had somehow burrowed into it so that the collar was up past the tip of his nose. Negan chuckled softly and strode over to the bed, sitting beside the boy so he could admire him more closely.

  
Carl rolled over onto his back, turning his head over and exposing his scars. The man was proud that they weren’t being covered anymore. He had to admit, the blemish was quite attractive. He’d never pegged himself for a disability fetishist, but hey. The apocalypse brought about more than a few shocking revelations.  
After a few minutes of silent contemplation, Negan reached up to touch his cheek, just below the scar. “Hey, time to wake up. C’mon.” Carl made a noise, but it was clear he was waking up. “Man, we got shit to do. I gotta show you around, dammit.”

  
The boy opened his eye a bit, peeking up at Negan through the thick curtain of his hair. “I guess..” He sat up, brushing his hair back into place with his fingers. “How long was I asleep? How long have we been here?”

  
The man chuckled a bit. “Couple hours to the first, maybe a half hour on the second. Shit, who knows.” He got up. “Come on. I gotta parade you around this place like a damn trophy.”

  
The thought made Carl smile. He got up, finding where Negan had put his shoes and putting them on. “Don’t parades have marching bands, though?” The question got him an admonishing look.

  
They left the room together and Negan locked the door. As they walked through the hallways, people stopped and watched silently. Carl didn’t know what the man had told his men about his, but they looked somewhere between afraid and envious. He felt a surge of confidence and straightened up as they walked, daring, even, to push his hair back and reveal the pit where his eye used to sit.

  
The first place they stopped was the shooting range. Negan lead him over to the mark, passing him a gun. "Let's see how shitty your aim is without that eye."  
Carl scoffed a bit, accepting the weapon before taking aim and firing. Of the six shots, only one hit the target, and even that one only dented the edge. Negan sighed. "Well, it ain't pure shit, I guess. But damn you need some work."

  
Carl glared at him a bit. "Well duh. I haven't had a gun to practice with since we met you."

  
The man smirked. "Didn't really need 'em though. Got that nice big wall."

  
The boy nodded. "The wall was nice, I guess. But honestly, I preferred roaming. Sitting around Alexandria was boring. There were no risks, no rush, no need for adrenaline. Boring."

  
Negan laughed at Carl's confession. "You know, kid, sometimes boring isn't half bad. But I know what you mean." He lead the teen back inside, showing him the rest of the compound. Carl seemed mildly interested in a few of the sections, namely the armoury and 'infirmary'.

  
Finally, they went up to the roof. The air was colder up here, and a blanket of snow was beginning to build. The two stood near the edge, looking out over the landscape. From here, it was easy for Carl to feel like he and Negan were kings. He leaned against the ledge, watching the snow fall over the cold countryside. He felt an arm drape over his shoulders and let himself lean against the warm body beside him.

  
"Welcome home, Carl."

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen a total of ten episodes of TWD. Sure hope this was up to par.


End file.
